Just to Sleep
by Vodka Martini
Summary: All she wants is to chase away the loneliness that haunts her at home. Huddyesque


Disclaimer: Characters ain't mine. Story is.

It had started almost six months ago. Lisa remembered, it was late on a Friday night, and she had just gotten home from the hospital. In truth, she'd lost track of time while signing forms and trying to figure out a decent clinic budget, but still, it was just after midnight by the time she unlocked her front door and stepped into a quiet, empty house. Not home…house. In her mind, at this point in her life, she should be coming home to a couple of kids, maybe a puppy, and of course a loving husband. If she had all of that, she would never lose track of time like this, she'd be watching the clock all day to get out of there as soon as she possibly could. And if, for some reason, she absolutely had to stay there this late, she would come home to a warm body in a warm bed who would kiss her, ask her how her day had been, and then wrap her up in his arms and make her feel safe and warm…and loved. But at this point it seemed like a phantom life. She couldn't picture her kids, or put a face on the man, and she couldn't remember when she had pushed that to the back burner and let it pass her by.

She walked through the house…her house…although it felt cold and foreign to her, and made her way slowly to her bedroom. The queen sized bed was definitely excessive when nobody ever shared it, and at this point it basically just served as a reminder of that fact.

That night, after a long, hard week at the hospital, the last thing that she wanted to do was climb into those cold, empty, lonely sheets and spend another night on her own. She certainly wasn't a week woman, but she didn't always want to be strong either.

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House guessed that it had been about six months ago that it first happened. He'd been sleeping in his king sized bed, sprawled out in the centre as usual. He'd heard his front door open with its tell-tale quiet squeak, and he'd quickly run through the list of people who had a spare key to his place. It was a short list. And Wilson was the only one on it who would use the key without knocking first. Stacy had given Cuddy her key when she left; mostly to make sure that there was someone out there who could check on House should he need it. But, to his knowledge she'd never used it. She'd do just about anything to avoid entering into the private world of the doctor who single-handedly plagued her beloved hospital.

So when he'd looked up to see her standing at the doorway to his bedroom in adorable green baby-doll pyjamas, her hair slightly damp from a shower and flowing unhindered down her shoulders, he couldn't have been more surprised. He'd looked at her for a moment, slowly raising one eyebrow, and waited for her to speak. She'd looked back at him, as though she was just realising where she was and contemplating her next move. Finally, she'd spoken. Her words were soft, and her voice was slightly husky as though she'd been crying.

"Don't ask me why I'm here," she'd warned. "In fact, don't say anything. And never say anything about this again. It's just for this one night. Just to sleep."

He'd raised one shoulder in a tired shrug, and she took it for what it was; an agreement. He'd shuffled onto one side of the bed to make room for her, and he threw back to covers as though to welcome her inside. She'd gratefully slid between the sheets, still warm in places from where they'd come into contact with his skin. There she'd fallen asleep, her back to him, just far enough that they weren't touching, but still close enough that she could feel his body heat. In the morning she'd woken with his arm thrown haphazardly over her; he'd still been fast asleep. She'd snuck out, her composure fully regained, and vowed that it was never to happen again.

Yet, somehow, here she was. Six months later. Using her now well-used key to open the door to his apartment and unabashedly enter his bedroom. After the first time, neither of them had spoken. House had, for some reason, decided that having her asleep beside him was more important than maintaining his reputation as a complete ass, and had allowed himself to be her comfort. Now he didn't even open his eyes when she came in, just pulled her back against his chest and lay that same arm over her body, semi-protectively. He would never be the face on that phantom husband of hers, but when she was tired of her loneliness, he served as a damn good substitute.

A.N. There it is ya'll. Short and hopefully sweet. Reviews are always appreciated!

Sarah


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